Akara drops his hands off my waist. He’s about to rush to the tent when Banks ducks his head and steps outside the flaps.
In a tight fist, Banks grips five snakes by their necks. Their bodies writhe in the air. “They’re just garter snakes.”
I have my fingers to my temples, stunned. “What in the ever-loving fuck—you look like Baby Hercules.” Okay, I’m a lot impressed.
Banks’ brows cinch like he has no clue what I’m talking about. I don’t have time to explain the Disney movie Hercules to him.
Akara is fuming as he approaches Banks. “I don’t fucking care if there are koala bears in there. I told you to get out here.”
“And now I’m out here,” Banks says, eyes softened on his friend. “Akara—”
“I’m making the calls when we take risks,” Akara snaps, his nose flaring. “You could have assessed the situation from outside the tent. No one was in there to save. If you came in contact with a single poisonous snake, Banks, you’d be dead. Think of Thatcher.”
“He has Jane,” Banks retorts. “He’ll be okay without me.”
Akara shakes his head like that’s so far from the truth. “No one can ever fill that void you’ll leave behind, and I know you know it. And if you won’t think of him, then think of Sulli before you pull that reckless shit.” He points to me.
My lungs collapse as my eyes meet the pain in Banks’. I see the words before he says them, “She has you, Akara.” He turns to his friend. “When I’m gone, you’ll hardly notice a difference.”
“That’s such bullshit,” I cut in, my voice almost quaking with emotion. My heart is slamming against my body. Like it’s trying to take flight and fling itself in his face. “I care about you, Banks.” I don’t forget that Akara is here.
I don’t forget that these words might hurt him.
But Akara was the one to pull me into the picture, so maybe he knew Banks needed this moment, my words, my truth, my feelings out loud—even if it’d hurt him in the process.
I come closer. “I don’t want to see you in pain. I don’t want to see you fucking die! You mean something more to me—if you didn’t, then why is the idea of never having you so fucking agonizing?”
His eyes redden. We both breathe harder, staring at one another, and then I brave a glance at Akara. He has a hand over his face. Distressed.
“Kits, I…” I pant like I’m running the longest marathon of my life. “…you know that choosing wouldn’t be this hard if I didn’t have feelings for you, too.”
He drops his hand, nodding. His eyes are bloodshot like Banks’. His gaze is gentle on me. “I know, Sul.”
Glancing back to Banks, I exhale, “Can you please drop those fucking snakes, Hercules? I can’t take you seriously holding them.”
He walks off to the woods to toss the snakes on the ground. The air lightens a fraction by my words, but an emotional string is still tethered between the three of us.
“Upside,” Banks says as he returns. “I’m not actually six-feet under yet.”
“Congratulations,” Akara says. “You’ve beaten death twice since we’ve been out here. Don’t test it a third time.”
He cracks a shadow of a smile. “Yes, sir.”
Akara glares. “I change my mind—Sulli, throw him in the snake pit.”
Banks and I laugh, and Akara ends up smiling. He shakes his head, then fixates on the flaps of the tent.
I ask Banks, “How do you know they’re all garter snakes?”
“You can thank Akara for that.” Banks nods to him.
“What do you mean?” I turn to Akara. But he doesn’t reply. He’s even more laser-focused on the tent, walking around the perimeter in search of something.
Banks watches Akara for a second, then answers, “Akara’s rulebook for Kitsuwon Securities. I think Chapter Twenty-Nine covered snakes and spiders.”
I’ve heard about the monstrously huge rulebook. A doorstopper. But I didn’t know he included sections on animal safety. Sounds like something Akara would do.
When it comes to his businesses, Akara goes above and beyond. I saw his drive and determination back when I was only sixteen—when he was first on my detail. He never let his phone die. Always had a charger, even found ways to access Wi-Fi in remote areas of Costa Rica—he wouldn’t let a good time thieve his passions and responsibilities.
And I know I was young, but he was still young too. Young to own a business all by himself. Young to be a lead on the Tri-Force. Young to create a security firm. He’s never let age or time or shitty cell service stop him from chasing triumph and success.
I understand what it’s like running so hard after something that everything else falls to the wayside. So much of my early life, I sacrificed for swimming. And it’s only since I retired that I have time to give to all the experiences I neglected.
I admire Kits because he’s never been so focused that he loses sight of his other loves. His other desires. He juggles so much so well, he could join Aerial Ethereal’s circus shows in Vegas.
And the rulebook—I wonder what else is inside. So I fucking go for it and ask, “When can I see this rulebook?”
Akara rounds the tent to the front, overhearing me. “When you become a bodyguard.”
I huff. “So never.”
He smiles at me, then tells Banks, “Let’s clear the snakes and pull everything from the tent. I have to figure out how they put them in here.”
My stomach curdles. I figured someone intentionally placed them in the tent, but hearing Akara confirm the presence of creeps creeping over our things is disturbing.
While I near the tent’s entryway, I tell them, “I can help.” A gray snake with long yellow stripes lies motionless at the zippered flaps. Oh fuck…
My stomach sinks.
I recognize this snake. I stepped on it before Akara pulled me out of the tent.
“Sulli?” Akara frowns.
“I squished it to death,” I breathe softly. “What are the fucking odds?”
“Damn high,” Banks says gruffly as he wrangles a couple more snakes in his hands. “I think there are close to four-dozen in here.”
My estimation was a whole dozen off—and how the fuck did they even find four dozen snakes?! This was premeditated. I burn up. Pissed off that some jackasses infiltrated the place where I sleep for a prank.
So funny.
So cute.
So fucking hilarious. Let’s frighten little ole Sullivan Minnie Meadows and hear her scream.
Not happening. If this was supposed to scare me away from the camp, it’s doing the opposite. I’m going to build a fortress here and never leave.
Take that, assholes.
I carry the dead snake to the woods and lay its carcass down next to a rock. Carcass. Fuck, can I have any worse tact? What else am I supposed to call its dead body though?
A dead body, Sulli.
Right.
I’m gentle with the dead body—the snake’s dead body. At our campsite, it takes some time for all of us to empty the tent of snakes and our gear.
By the time we find the slit in the back of the tent, I realize the reason Team Apex left the camp. They didn’t want to be around when my bodyguards realized they pulled this prank.